Independence & Scones!
by ElegantCry
Summary: America and England are having a fight, since it's Fourth of July; Independence Day. France suggests to America that he should apologize, but that doesn't work out... He goes to see England.. Which ends in a LOVING. ROMANTIC. DAY.
1. Chapter 1: The Introduction to England

Kahh.. I know it's a short chapter. ._. But I like breaking things into smaller parts, so you don't have a huge 9000 page Chapter. I always hate that. Plus I tend to do a lot of work. So I'm a Constant Updater. Hah.. Enjoy. Oh, and give me good ideas! D:

I want to write other stories while I'm at it.

'Kay. Thanks. 3

- Ele-Kun.

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The skies of the country were a magnificent view, showing how beautiful the landscape truly was. It was sunset, the vast space above glowed of a blue and purple which was mixed together, painting such a collage in the sky. There in the middle of the beauty, was a rather elegant house, that belonged to a rather tsundere-gentleman, who acquaintances called England. Arthur Kirkland, if you wished to become technical. The representation of the Majesty and Cavalry of the English citizens were all upon the shoulders of this man… because yes, He was a gentleman.

His house was something he saw as special, while _HE, _the Bloody Squatter, thought it was a small, little, _MISERABLE_dump. Things were as England liked it, enough room for one person, but spacey enough to be able to go about with daily routines. He could make scones… (Which he always had alone, since they were too good for anyone else to dare to try) he'd have some tea, maybe read a book… occasionally have a serious dickie bird with Sealand over his behaviors, (Stop Blogging Inappropriate things to Prussia! It's Lewd!) but nothing serious anymore. He could enjoy his own time… Except for a certain day of the year, when a _CERTAIN _event happened, but no one talks of it. Hell, noone TRIES to talk about it, especially around England. It's always over-looked since bad feelings always arise at the hint of this certain day. Over the years it started to occur to England that something was missing in his house, but he could never put a finger to it, except on _THIS _day.

England could glance lazily out his old windows, to see fireworks…. He could feel the excitement, the joy. He could feel the wave of emotion coming from _THERE_. Of course, it wasn't any of his business. He had fun watching his telie, his favorite show was on! This was the single day he'd remember what was missing, and why it was....

"I'm seceding! I'm not a child anymore!"

It occurred to him by now, that it was his own fault, for always monopolizing the little kid. Things are of the past now, it's nothing to worry about… not anymore…


	2. Chapter 2: The Introduction to America

Yeah.. You kinda need this part. Ah. America. You and your Fail-tastic ability to realize you're in LOVEE~

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"Nufufufufu! Isn't this great!? Independence for ALLL!"

The laughter came from someone specific, the Hero of everyone's story. The kid that could stop the all-powerful Germany, and his cohorts. The ladies call him Alfred F_. JJJJJones_. Other countries call him, America. This was a special day for him, No, scratch that that, a special day for _EVERYONE_. This is the day that Alfred grew-up. His own Country… it grew this day. He was finally able to get away from that old Geezer with the caterpillars for eyebrows. Now here he is, with a country that still grows so strongly, celebrating such a great victory, so many years ago.

"Dorufufufufu! Hey Francis! You should have a drink too, ya' know! Join the Hero! I have a lot of great stuff… You like Cola right? It's my favorite!"

The young blonde was always rambunctious on this day, of course, and he wanted to share the joy with his great side-kick, France.

France was older, with more distinct features about him. His country had been through quite of bit of turmoil in the past centuries, and still have been digging himself out of debts. To be friendly, he agreed to join Alfred and his celebration, with other thoughts in mind.

"… Ah I suppose, Moncher. But… Have you thought about… _Him_?"

"Him?"

"Oui Oui, _Him." _

"You know I have some nice sherry I got from Antonio, Do you want some?"

It seemed whenever England was mentioned to America, He would completely blow it off, without all discretion. The two of them seemed to be tender about one another, both veering from any mention of the other. America would just completely change the subject, and would not even dare to look at the person who mentioned, as to England, who would cough softly(since he _IS_ a gentleman) and just continue conversation.

"America, Really. You know how _HE _gets about this day… Maybe you should go see him? Or maybe at least talk to him?"

France always thought of their relationship as a bad break-up, where both sides of it were STILL bitter about it. He knew discussing this with Alfred would be a rough course. Sometimes he swore that America was still a child, who still needed to be parented…

"Why the HELL should I? I was sick of being treated like a baby. I'm the hero after all! Maybe if the old Man gave me some fucking responsibility! You know how it was!"

France and all the other older countries could have agreed at that time that England was a bit overprotective of America, and in fact was too hard on the lad. America was still bitter about it, as it was obvious. Hell, even England was still bitter about it. It was unfortunate that the pair couldn't just tell each other how they really felt. France always had the feeling that England had something for America, but he was too stubborn to admit it (After all, a Gentleman would _NEVER _bring himself upon someone else, in _THAT_ fashion).

"Really Alfred, must you act like a child whenever someone tells you something you don't like?!" Francis was losing his patience with America's nonchalant approach to the situation. Couldn't he just do what he asks, without an argument?

"No! I'm the Hero! What are you, Francis, my fucking MOM!? I stopped Arthur and his damn, RUDE-ASS, CONTROLLING, MEGALOM-"

Alfred wouldn't finish that sentence. Not at that time. Whenever Alfred talked like that about England, it always made France angry, angry enough to want to break something. In this case, his fist just happened to fall forward, and just happen to hit America right between the eyes, knocking him off his feet. The younger blonde happened to stumble, and hit the floor of the patio afterwards, cursing under his breath at the Frenchman.

"Monsieur. Get your little Punk-ass over to England's. Or should I give you… Hm.. Another blow to your pride?"

America went silent as he scooped himself up, dusting at his lovely bomber's-jacket, and started down the stairs, mumbling to himself. He didn't wanna' go see England... Nuhuh.. England would just complain about him, and whatever. The old Geezer would always rant when he got bored... and as the hero, Alfred didn't like being bored to tears. The way England always drank tea, like he was better then everyone else... the way he crosses his legs when he talked about things, like a fuckin' King.... The way he smiles.... which seems so sweet, the way He looks off into space, like such a dreamer...

What a waste of his great Celebration, He thought with pursed lips. (LIKE THIS. ---- T 3 T)

He went through his town, everyone happy to see him, cheering on about 'INDEPENDENCE!' and 'FREEDOM'. He really loved it. Being able to do everything for himself, hell he even stopped Germany! He was fine by himself.... though at the same time, he always had this feeling that bothered him, that always made his heart pound... He could never figure out what it was.

Whatever. It's nothing important if it doesn't show it's face to the HERO!


	3. Chapter 3: Body Language says it all

Sorry about the long wait for this. I've been havng this horrible writer's block. It really really sucks. And schools been somewhat diffcult.

Sorry for the wait, yet again. D:

Ele-kun

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Alfred was completely exasperated while he rubbed his face tenderly, nursing it after that blow from France. He had been horribly terrified that Texas was broken... Which he kept rubbing on the rim. He's the hero... but if he lost his glasses, He'd be a BLIND hero. Which was completely useless, if he couldn't save the day without a Seeing-Eye China.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

After his little plane ride into England, he started thinking about what, WHAT EXACTLY he was supposed to say to Arthur...

_"DORUFUFUFUFU! OOOH ENGLAND, THE HERO IS HERE!"_

_"Go away, YOU BLOODY GIT!"_

**Hahahahahaha.... No.**

_"Oh England... Please, Let me show you how I feel... and how SORRY I am.. with physical affection."_

_**-**PUNCH AND SLAM OF THE DOOR**.-**_

**Ahahahaha. What am I, FRANCE?!**

Talking to England wasn't exactly the easiest thing. It always seemed like the old man was just LOOKING for faults in him... always shooting down his ideas before he could even speak, with that snide tone of his, which always sang low when he was snapping insults. He always sat around drinking his damn lemon tea...Ugh! It always stunk up the room... and his fucking breathe TOO! The way he'd look at Alfred was almost as if he was silently implying that he was stupid. Those radiant emeralds would glimmer while a delicate hand just under his chin, in a way that always seemed like he wanted to make some obnoxious comment... just like the planes America had made.

_"Oh America... that's __completely__ (Retardedly) like you! I mean, what a completely (Retarded) perfect design!"_

The only good thing about talking to England was his body language. If there was one thing America could completely master and read: Was talking with the Body. England always talked like he hated him, but would seem to leave himself open to the other. Normally, he'd cross his legs when talking to someone like... maybe Japan. But whenever Alfred came, both of those Argyle socked feet, rested in those daintly little leather shoes, were FIRMLY planted on the ground. He'd normally set his teacup (On it's little platter, since 'A Gentleman must _ALWAYS_ look dignified!') in his lap, and would take a sip when he was bored with what Alfred was saying... or when he was about to make a comment.

Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe not, but Alfred was DAMN set on finding out exactly how the Brit felt. It wasn't like they had really conveyed any feelings too each other.... often... or... Not as of late.

_"Ah~! A-ah! Y.. You bloody Git! D... don't push like that!"_

_England was mounted atop of the American, his form rising and falling off of a hard arousal. His back arched with each movement from being jostled by America's rough thrusts. Each time he pushed forward, England yelled out either in pleasure, or with a shocked gasp. His sandy hair was amess more than it normally was, due to the antics that the two had been indulging in. Originally, England made a comment which went along the lines of, 'I'm A GENTLEMAN! I would never!' but now... It was quite the opposite. He would lean forward to change the sensation of that act of intimacy for the both of them, while his hands clenched tightly onto those broad shoulders of which belonged to America. Each time as America began hitting a certain spot deep within the Englishmen, he began to cry out, 'Oh Alfred~! Don't stop! P-please don't stop~! Ahhh~! I love you I love you, You Bloody Idiot!" __The lighting of the room made everything seem like a dream. It was somewhat dark because of the shades, but bright enough that America could take in every inch of England's exposed skin, every pleasant facial expression.... every inch of that petite figure... _

"Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones! W-wake up! We're in England.. like you requested!"

America quickly came back to consciousness. At first he couldn't make out who it was since Texas was across the room (When...?). Lithuania smiled sweetly, reminding Alfred of a small child every time he did. When did he dose off? He couldn't remember, for that matter...

He glanced out the window of that large luxorious jet to find himself in sight of Big Ben.

He was deep into the country of England, In the land of his Depressed Lover.


End file.
